The reason why I whose Napoleon is because…
To me, Lupin is half-japanese, half-french. Jigen is American, with italian parents. And Goemon is japanese. I'm not sure about Zenigata and Fujiko. But it doesn't matter in this fic. The only thing important is that Lupin speaks french… and I do to. Which is important for me to not make any grammatical errors! (Also I wanted to boast a little).
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Paris, Louvre District.
The sky was heavy that night. The faint light of the moon barely broke through the dark clouds. The cobblestone streets were deserted, and only the flickering glow of streetlamps provided any visibility. But it seemed like even the light was avoiding this forgotten little street of Paris, and the soft yellow-orange flicker of the streetlamps did little to fulfill its intended purpose.
In this street, there was a single, broken streetlamp. A closer inspection would have revealed shards of glass at its base, suggesting the 'malfunction' was rather recent. The intended purpose was to make the few passersby avoid this street entirely, finding it far too spooky for their liking, leaving the figure concealed in the shadows beneath the streetlamp unnoticed.
The faint reflection of what little light remained barely outlined the contours of a figure leaning casually against the broken streetlamp. The silhouette was waiting, hat pulled low, hands in pockets, legs crossed, completely at ease in the darkness others so keenly avoided.
The distant hum of the city was suddenly broken by the sharp click of a lighter. A brief flash of light illuminated the sharp, angular face of Jigen Daisuke, one of the world's greatest marksmen and partner of the infamous Lupin The Third. The lighter disappeared, leaving only the faint glowing tip of the cigarette to mark his presence in the shadows.
Jigen took a drag from his cigarette and watched the smoke rise. Tonight's mission shouldn't pose much of a problem. The target was a ruby the size of a fist, the 'Heart of Napoleon.' Jigen hadn't listened to Lupin's explanation about the jewel, and he didn't care why it bore that name. The only thing that interested him was whether Fujiko would show up. Something was telling him she would, and he didn't like it.
The smoke drifted upward, curling under the broken lamp's casing. It lingered for a moment before a faint draft scattered it.
The sound of footsteps pulled Jigen from his reverie. A man had entered the street, walking with confident strides. He wore a red suit, far too bright to blend into the shadows, and it seemed like nothing could stop him from strutting down the streets as if he owned it.
He passed by the gunman without slowing, and Jigen fell into step behind him. Jigen grumbled when Lupin swiped his cigarette, but let him have it.
Jigen had never met a man like Lupin, capable of hiding behind a thousand different emotions, each as convincing as the real one. Lupin could fool anyone—even Jigen, if he wanted to—but when it was just the two of them, Jigen could pick up on the things Lupin kept hidden from the rest of the world. After years of working with the world-renowned thief, Jigen had become an expert at reading his boss's emotions.
And if he was right about that faint tapping of Lupin's thumb and the slight spring in his step, then Lupin was more than eager to steal this jewel.
"Did you really have to pick a gem called 'The Heart of Napoleon'?" Jigen had a deep, chain-smoking, alcoholic voice, but whenever he spoke to Lupin, there was always an undercurrent of youthful amusement. "Can't you leave the poor man alone? Or is this just your French pride kicking in again, huh?"
Last time they'd gone after Napoleon's dictionary, and that had turned out to be a bust. If this job didn't end with a proper treasure, Jigen was going to start thinking French people were broke.
"Ah, Jigen! You can't blame me if dear Napoléon scattered his riches all over the world. And besides, this is the Heart of Napoléon!" Lupin made a grandiose gesture with his hands. "It's not just a jewel—it's a piece of history!"
They had reached a slightly brighter street now, and the lights of Paris lit up his face as if welcoming him back. Jigen shook his head in fond amusement. He retrieved his cigarette—or at least what little was left of it.
"Yeah, sure." He took a puff, blowing smoke into the cool air as they resumed their walk. "Is that why you invited Zenigata over?"
Lupin's grin only widened, proof that there truly was no limit to it. "Oh, good old Pops would have shown up anyway—no doubt about it. But isn't that what makes it exciting?"
Lupin's enthusiasm was infectious, and Jigen soon found a smile creeping onto his lips. As Lupin's hands flew through the air, lost in animated gestures, he rehashed the plan for the hundredth time: sensors, security systems, guards... Jigen already knew it all. He let Lupin ramble into the void. Something else had caught his attention.
Years of watching his back had sharply attuned his instinct to whenever he was being watched. Right now, someone was tailing them. And the tail was far from subtle.
It was a wonder Lupin hadn't already spotted the brown anorak that kept appearing in every window reflection—though he was probably too absorbed in his theatrical explanations to notice. Quietly, Jigen slowed his pace.
He stopped near a dusty window shop and pulled out his lighter to light a fresh cigarette. That's when Lupin finally caught on, though he kept talking as if nothing was wrong. Jigen watched as the coat passed briefly under a distant streetlamp before blending back into the shadows. It was too purposeful for a random passerby and too subtle to be Zenigata.
Without breaking the conversation, Lupin glanced at Jigen. Casually, he moved closer, as if wanting to light one himself—or rather, to steal Jigen's, as usual. Taking advantage of their proximity, he asked softly, "What did you see?"
"Behind us, to the left, just behind the blue car. Not Zenigata. Not an amateur either."
Lupin kept his trademark smile, but his eyes flicked in the direction Jigen indicated. They resumed walking, and Jigen allowed himself to be guided into a side street that wasn't part of their original route.
"No suppressor," the gunman added. "If I take him down, it'll wake the whole neighborhood. Got any ideas?"
Lupin had his hands in his pockets and was walking with exaggerated, playful steps like a child. He spoke up, just loud enough for their stalker to hear: "If he's waaaatching us, he's not watching where he waaa~~aalks!"
There was a yelp, and the figure disappeared into a hole. Lupin burst out laughing, turning to Jigen with a sly grin.
As they approached, Jigen noticed the man had fallen into an open manhole. The hole had been covered with a cloth designed to resemble a manhole cover, like something out of a cartoon, and their pursuer had stepped right through it.
Lupin was jubilant, practically glowing with pride. The guy had dropped like a stone. To be fair, with light that dim, Jigen would have probably fallen for the ruse too.
Jigen crouched at the edge of the manhole, followed by Lupin, who was standing casually, observing their "prey." Faint groans echoed up from the sewer. A few meters down, the stranger was sprawled out in a suspiciously brown puddle, clearly dazed by the fall.
The guy didn't seem like he belonged—and not just in the sewer. No, the man didn't look like a hitman or a gangster. He wore a dark suit that looked like it had been bought the day before, and Jigen spotted a sidearm at his waist—a basic gun, something reliable but cheap, with plenty of flaws. Clearly, the guy wasn't an expert.
A cap obscured most of his face—what kind of amateur wore a cap instead of a proper fedora? Very suspicious. All in all, he was obviously not much of a threat.
"Nice fall, pal," Jigen said with a dry smile. Calmly, he drew his magnum, angling it so a glint of light could catch the stalker's eyes. At least amateurs were easier to intimidate. The faint shimmer on the barrel was usually enough to unsettle small-time punks.
"We're gonna keep this simple. You stay still, don't yell, and don't do anything stupid, got it?" Jigen tilted his head, his voice lowering into a warning growl. "And nothing heroic, either. Capiche?"
The man sat up, still slightly groggy, and muttered something under his breath. He squinted and shielded his face with a hand when Lupin shone a flashlight at him.
"Oh, Jacques!" Lupin exclaimed. "What a surprise! What are you doing down there, old friend?"
Jigen hopped down into the manhole with practiced agility and began searching the intruder. Lupin grinned with feigned enthusiasm and leaned in closer.
"Back to working for the competition, are we? I thought you'd be taking a much longer vacation after the Zurich incident."
Jacques used one last free motion to wipe some of the muck off his face before Jigen tied him up. His voice was half angry, half insecure.
"You're not getting away this time, Lupin. My boss isn't just anyone! You've aimed too high. We'll get the Heart of Napoleon before you!"
Jigen didn't know Jacques, nor did he care, but one thing was clear: he sucked at negotiations. The guy was spilling information way too fast. Not to say that his wavering voice dropped his threat level somewhere around -100. However, if what he was saying was true, then they might be dealing with other thieves.
Jacques's eyes glimmered with a mix of fear and frustration as Jigen gagged him, but there wasn't much he could do. Jigen quickly got rid of his gun. Jacques also had a radio, which the gunman smashed and tossed into the sewer water, along with a small knife. No GPS or tracking device in sight. Tied up like this, Jacques wouldn't cause them any more trouble. Jigen gave the ropes a final, firm tug to make sure he couldn't move and shot him a cold glare.
"Time to move on, Jackie," Lupin chimed in, as Jigen was getting back up. "You'll have to forgive us, but we don't have time to sit around and chat."
"All done, boss. He's tied up, gagged, and tucked away where no one will stumble on him."
The gunman wiped himself off as best he could, but there was a stubborn mark on his left leg that refused to come off. Jigen gave up and decided to check his magnum instead.
Lupin seemed lost in thought, likely torn between leaving a calling card with a cheeky note or interrogating Jacques further for more information. Jigen made the decision for him.
"There's bound to be more of them on the way, Lupin. He's not working alone. We should leave before his crew catches up. What do you say?"
It was a tough call. Lupin never walked away from a challenge, and he always did as he pleased —and Jigen would follow him loyally. If anything, Lupin seemed to thrive on the danger of a mission that kept escalating. Jigen had to admit, he too enjoyed the adrenaline rush these jobs with Lupin brought.
Lupin brushed an invisible speck of dust off his suit —as if he'd been the one to climb down into the sewers, the bastard.
"If they show up, we'll improvise. As always."
They continued toward the Louvre. This time, Lupin seemed more alert, and he was the one to stop Jigen after they'd barely covered two more streets. He silently pointed to a rooftop about fifty meters ahead. Two silhouettes were up there—barely visible, but impossible to miss once you knew where to look. They had to be accomplices of this "Jacques". Probably more underlings sent by the same boss. They were waiting. One of them was armed—a sniper with a silencer, a fine piece of hardware. The other seemed to be fiddling with something, likely a radio.
"You want me to take them out?" Jigen asked. He still didn't have a suppressor, but Lupin knew that. He was the one who had asked Jigen to leave the silencer behind.
"No. We'll go around and take them out quietly. Come on, there's gotta be a way to reach the rooftops."
Jigen followed Lupin along the gutters. The gentleman thief moved with feline agility, something Jigen envied but could still match without too much trouble. Every foothold and handhold was carefully chosen to avoid making a sound.
Jigen felt a brief pang of anxiety while climbing, when the two silhouettes disappeared from view, but he relaxed when he saw they hadn't moved. He joined Lupin, who was crouched behind a cornice, listening in on their conversation.
The first guy, the one with the sniper rifle, spoke in a low, slightly tense voice. "You sure Jacques didn't screw up? We should've heard from him by now."
The second, holding the radio, shook his head. "Jacques? He's not smart enough to screw this up. He's probably just stalling. He's always trying to act clever."
"This is bad. I'll bet he got caught. Lupin isn't some amateur."
"Yeah, good thing there's two of us," the other replied. "The woman's already inside, right?"
Jigen's blood ran cold for a moment. The woman? Fujiko. Who else could it be? He exchanged a quick glance with Lupin, who was wearing a wide, almost dreamy grin—clearly thrilled at the thought of running into Fujiko inside the Louvre.
The first guy spoke again, now sounding more uneasy. "We should call her, right? See if she needs backup. I don't trust this Lupin business. If Jacques screwed up…"
Lupin had heard enough. As soon as he gave the signal, he and Jigen moved in perfect sync. In one swift, silent motion, they descended on the two men like shadows. Jigen knocked his target out with a quick blow from the butt of his magnum, and when he looked up, Lupin was already tucking a handkerchief back into his pocket. Both enemies hit the ground simultaneously.
Jigen crouched down to tie them up, using the same method he'd used on Jacques. There was no way they'd be getting loose anytime soon. Their weapons were placed far out of reach, and both men were gagged to keep them quiet. They groaned faintly but didn't wake.
As Jigen focused on finishing the knots, he caught sight of Lupin rummaging through the men's belongings. He picked up one of their radios and, true to form, started fiddling with the buttons.
"Oh Fuu~~uujiko-chaaaaan!" Lupin sang teasingly into the device.
Jigen nearly choked on the cigarette he'd just placed between his lips. He shot to his feet, glaring at Lupin in disbelief. That guy really didn't know when to quit.
"Oi—dammit, Lupin!" he whisper-shouted, exasperated.
Lupin didn't seem the least bit concerned about his partner's frustration. On the contrary, he knew perfectly well his little stunt would irritate the gunman, and he fixed Jigen with a wide grin while continuing to whisper sweet nothings to Fujiko through the device. He was clearly enjoying himself at Jigen's expense.
A burst of static crackled through the radio, cutting Lupin off mid-declaration. Fujiko's smooth voice came through on the other end.
"Lupin, you're late. Hurry up and steal that Heart, will you? There are too many guards for me."
Her voice was dripping with mischief. It was all carefully calculated, but Jigen could see through her lies as clearly as a pane of glass. Lupin, however, eagerly replied, "My dearest Fujiko, forget all about that worthless Heart and let me give you mine instead!"
Fujiko said something in response, clearly annoyed. Jigen decided that finishing up with the two snipers was a better use of his time. At least Fujiko hadn't secured the ruby yet, so the game was still on.
Despite his best efforts to ignore Fujiko, he couldn't help but catch the tail end of their conversation.
"Your heart is nice, Lupin. But Napoleon's might be a little shinier," Fujiko replied, her voice laced with a slight sensuality. "Don't make me wait too long, Lupin. I hate being bored."
Before Lupin could fire back with a suggestive remark, the radio crackled and abruptly cut off. He tried calling her a few more times, but Fujiko didn't respond.
Lupin threw an innocent glance at Jigen. "Oops," he said, utterly unrepentant. "Looks like we'll have to pick up the pace."
"I hate you," Jigen replied in the most deadpan tone he could muster.
"No, you do~on't," Lupin sang as he started climbing down.
Jigen shook his head and followed. It was hard to believe that this playful kid was one of the most wanted men in the world.
There had been a time when Jigen hadn't believed it either. During their early jobs together, he'd expected the police to nab them at any moment, or for one of them to end up meeting the grim reaper. But, strangely enough, that never happened. Lupin always had a plan, always stayed a step ahead, and never left anyone behind.
The kid was, for lack of a better word, untouchable. A god among men. And if he'd tipped Fujiko off, it wasn't without reason—but not something a mere mortal like Jigen could understand.
Jigen could have asked Lupin about the plan, but he knew full well that his partner was just as good at improvising as he was at scheming. To stay informed at all times would mean Lupin would have to update him every time a new idea crossed his mind—which, knowing Lupin, would be something like every five seconds. Impossible. Their duo would never have worked so well if Jigen had stayed as paranoid as he was in the beginning.
A man like Lupin—either you kept up with him, or you got left behind.
That didn't mean Jigen couldn't occasionally yell at Lupin's plans. Even gods make mistakes.
As for tonight, the Louvre was finally in sight, and nothing could possibly go wrong… unless, of course, Lupin had planned it that way.